After not writing much new poetry while I’ve been stuck in Revision Land, it’s been a veritable explosion of fresh material here! Okay, so it’s been a couple poems. But still! That’s something. Here’s one that I wrote yesterday. contraptions stubbornly sensual, hands reach to caress – lips pout to kiss & find only empty …

Reaching back a bit for this one because I’ve been living in The Land of Revision as of late instead of writing new things. I’ll be glad to find some sort of an end to this project if only to say it’s done. In the meantime, enjoy this little chestnut from a few years back. …

There are four certainties in life. Death and taxes seem to get all the ink, but I firmly believe there’s two others. One is that the quickest way to get a bunch of tables when you’re a waiter is to order food for yourself. The other is that the quickest way to wind up writing …

This is one I stumbled across this morning and sparked my interest. In the same way I’m confused when people who played beautifully (or at least better than myself) have given up on music, I’m still in disbelief over some of the writers I’ve known who have given up on words. Of course, I say …

I’ll level with you, dear reader – no way no how do I feel like writing or posting anything this morning. Little bit of frost over everything like winter’s last gasp, a desaturated look to the morning… these are not a few of my favorite things. However, if there’s one thing that’s worth doing even …

Today’s poem has just stepped out of the Wayback Machine from 2011, so please be gentle with it as the acclimation process concludes. There was some minimal editing, but it amounted mostly to line breaks and a couple strategic spaces. everybody’s everybody nobody wants to die to get to heaven living in the past & planning for …

Here’s a little something for Word Wednesday that I wrote back in early February. a time piece the tickingof my parent’s wall clockis still with me: as it used to echothrough a darkened house,vibrating through wood floors& joists, it echoes throughyears & miles covered – still present with itssteady Tick(the sound of Death’s tapping foot)& …

I’ve always been fascinated with cities. To me, they’re as magical in their manic noise and movement as the country is in its quiet and emptiness. weeknight in the city dirty town with wave after wave of windows, cascading over each other, walls of concrete & stone stained with evening sweat – hungry doorways wait …